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Description
General Info

Starting Guild: Explorers
Team Name: Rainbow Sprinkle!
Merits: 2
Strikes: -
Hold Item:
- Mur - N/A
- Spekle - N/A
Current Guild Earnings: 15 Poké
Guild items: Guild certificate (Explorers), (Un)Tactical Shovel, Red Bouquet Corsage,

Cameos: Speaking roles? Background characters? Go wild! I’d prefer if you double-checked speaking/major roles but it isn’t necessary, just have fun! Plus, I love to draw responses!

— Party Member 1 —

Name: Mur
Age: Early teens
Bio-sex: Female
Gender: Haha ha no (nonbinary, they/them)
Species: Zorua
Personal items: N/A
Nature: Sassy
Characteristic: Somewhat Stubborn

Personality (Traits): Cunning, resourceful, incredibly stubborn and street-smart. Doesn’t really know how to respond to kindness and is even more clueless when it comes to giving others compliments.

Additional information: Due to their upbringing, they have a very dexterous set of paws and a strong compulsion to lie and steal.
Will often hoard things they don’t need.
They don’t even like shiny objects that much but they’ll often find themselves pocketing them on accident without even realising it.

History

They’ve been afraid of thunderstorms for as long as they can recall,
The bangs and crashes tormenting them as millions of droplets fall.
They were barely old enough to walk back then, left startled by the rain.
And so they ran and ran into a life of endless hunger pain.
They’re sure their mother looked for them, searching deep into the night.
Yet there comes a time when you should just give up on that fight.

At their lowest, a murkrow flock landed, just within their view,
Listening to their planned thefts, watching as they flew.
It was then when they were noticed by an old murkrow of short stature,
She wasn’t often allowed out of the nest, just a simple egg hatcher.
That fateful day she had been given permission to roam,
And with the aid of an illusion, she brought the starving child home.
Only murkrow were allowed, that rule she knew too well.
Yet she risked her life anyway, not a soul the secret she’d tell.
The head of the flock was ruthless, not hesitating to show his might.
Yet for years, Mur slipped by undetected from his sight.
Regular rest was necessary but they proved valuable on heists.
Perfecting the art of stealing anything shiny and highly priced.
Life went on this way for years on end, all this becoming normal.
But despite finding a place there, relationships remained formal.

That was until one day, a lone smeargle they did find.
Just another target, to simply swoop by and rob blind.
He held not a penny to his name, his satchel lay bare,
Yet before Mur could even leave, he presented berries insisting they share.
Hesitant at first, they stared at the smeargle,
Eventually giving in and eating until near full.
But as they went to fly away, they realised something was amiss,
Within range their companions did not stay, their illusion was dismissed.
Yet the stranger did not seem to care, continuing to talk.
Mur was left stunned, their mouth agape in a gawk.
They had never been able to show anyone this form for the sake of their own safety.
Any reasonable person would report to the boss, though perhaps they were just being hasty.
This stranger did not know them, nor the workings of the flock.
Perhaps such an exchange shouldn’t come as such a shock.
Still they bid their farewells and pilfered the next town best they could.
Before making it back home like any good murkrow should.

For the next few weeks, the smeargle was all on the zorua’s mind.
And on their regular missions that stranger they’d try to find.
Eventually success was made, as he wandered by a lake.
One rough landing later, a sense of bonding they could not shake.
They arranged to meet up regularly, just as the sun hit noon.
From there they would hang out until fully rose the moon.
Venturing to a quiet clearing where Mur deemed it safe.
Within this smeargle they held immense trust and faith.
They’d use this time to rest and talk, unwinding just a little.
And the whole while he’d sit there, being an ear to it all.

As time went on their skills were recognised, quickly getting promoted.
Yet with that came more gruelling tasks to which they were devoted.
Their time to rest grew less and less, his worry taking hold.
Eventually he’d meet them closer, each time growing more bold.
With the overwhelming stress and strain, the fox grew ever snappy,
Refusing help and insisting this life made them happy.
Eventually their friend had, had just about enough.
Standing his ground, calling them out on their stupid bluff.
But he had failed to notice someone looming behind, listening to this information.
The head of the flock, large and imposing. He brought his talons down upon them without a moments hesitation.
A spy among his tightly guarded ranks, that was all that he saw.
A filthy liar and a traitor, not the obedient goon like before.
The flock watched on, unfazed. Not a helping claw in sight.
This was normal punishment as the boss showed off his might.
Even Mur knew that this was a fate that they could not change.
It had been a good run by here they were, it was expected and not strange.
They thought back to how they could have starved all those years ago.
How they’d had fun but in the end this was all for it they had to show.

To the surprise of everyone a voice screamed from the crowd.
The smeargle barrelling into the side of the bird, knocking him to the ground.
Not enough time to process as they were grabbed and lifted off the floor.
Their friend leaping up, grabbing his tail and into the sky they soared.
The smeargle flies?
What a surprise!
The flock in hot pursuit.
There was only one option available and a risky one to boot.
Making a hard turn, the pair disappeared, fully engulfed in the fog.
Honchkrow ordering them to fall back, sure of the death of the trickster fox and painter dog.

— Party Member 2 —

Name: Spekle
Nickname: Speks
Age: Early teens
Bio-sex: Male
Gender: Male (He/him)
Species: Smeargle
Personal items: A small bag, used to hold practically nothing aside from a few berries and a flute
Nature: Naive
Characteristic: Likes to relax

Personality (Traits): Kind, sweet and incredibly loyal, if a little slow on the uptake. He still has a lot of childlike tendencies and habits. If he has something and you need it he won’t hesitate to give it to you, even if it puts him in harms way. It’ll often take him quite a long while to understand things, especially subtlety and sarcasm. He’s honest to a fault and lacks the awareness to know when certain information shouldn’t be shared. He loves nature and taking things slow - often noticing and getting distracted by the tiniest of little details.

Additional information: He can’t keep a secret to save his life. He’s really trying to get better at it but really struggles to wrap his head around the basic concept of it.
Tends to only focus on the person he’s talking to when mid-conversation. The rest of the world seems to suddenly not exist.
He doesn’t like having too much clutter around or owning things he doesn’t need or use.
His mother taught him how to play the flute but he only ever uses it to mimic bird calls.
His birth name is actually Speckle but he’s managed to spell it incorrectly every single time he’s written it so he’s just accepted it at this point.

History

Travelling the world by his mother’s side, the perfect place to be.
So many people to meet and sights to see.
His mark on her back, her mark on his.
To figure out they were family, not the hardest question on the quiz.
It was just her and him for as long as he could remember.
That was until dawned that fateful November.
Frost forming in sparkly patches across the grass.
A large cavernous pit they did pass.
Cries from inside drove his mother into action.
“Stay right there, don’t worry, I’ll be back, son.”

And so he sat and waited and waited all day,
Yet she never appeared, longer added to his stay.
The snow fell heavy and yet longer he sat, no doubt of his own.
She just had to come back! He thought chilled to the bone.
Slowly but surely he ate though his rations.
Mimicking distant birdsongs, one of his many passions.

Yet as days and nights passed, it only grew colder.
He stood himself up, dusting snow off his shoulder.
Maybe the cave had another exit southbound?
It was worth a try, perhaps she’d just been turned around.

Yet the longer he searched the more hopeless it got.
There was no way she’d just up and forgot.
No something was wrong, he felt it deep in his chest.
Looking for others to help? Yes that would be best.
So he searched far and wide for a kind soul to help out.
Yet each time he was denied from slammed doors to shouts.

And by the time he thought he’d found someone willing,
His memory of the cave’s location had huge gaps missing filling.
So he continued on his own path, trying to ignore what he now did lack,
The only thing he had left, her paw pad mark on his back.

On his journeys, the paths were quiet, he found.
Calm and motionless, without a sound.
He quickly grew lonely, painting faces on trees around him.
Alone forever, that was ok, even if he felt his colour grow dim.

It wasn’t until he met that zorua... well, murkrow,
His first proper interaction in two years, yet he tried to not let it show.
As always he offered to share his food,
That seemed to put the stranger in a good mood.
Simple wild berries picked along the way, nice and healthy.
And well, the rest from there is history... until recently.

Description
General Info

Starting Guild: Explorers
Team Name: Rainbow Sprinkle!
Merits: 2
Strikes: -
Hold Item:
- Mur - N/A
- Spekle - N/A
Current Guild Earnings: 15 Poké
Guild items: Guild certificate (Explorers), (Un)Tactical Shovel, Red Bouquet Corsage,

Cameos: Speaking roles? Background characters? Go wild! I’d prefer if you double-checked speaking/major roles but it isn’t necessary, just have fun! Plus, I love to draw responses!

— Party Member 1 —

Name: Mur
Age: Early teens
Bio-sex: Female
Gender: Haha ha no (nonbinary, they/them)
Species: Zorua
Personal items: N/A
Nature: Sassy
Characteristic: Somewhat Stubborn

Personality (Traits): Cunning, resourceful, incredibly stubborn and street-smart. Doesn’t really know how to respond to kindness and is even more clueless when it comes to giving others compliments.

Additional information: Due to their upbringing, they have a very dexterous set of paws and a strong compulsion to lie and steal.
Will often hoard things they don’t need.
They don’t even like shiny objects that much but they’ll often find themselves pocketing them on accident without even realising it.

History

They’ve been afraid of thunderstorms for as long as they can recall,
The bangs and crashes tormenting them as millions of droplets fall.
They were barely old enough to walk back then, left startled by the rain.
And so they ran and ran into a life of endless hunger pain.
They’re sure their mother looked for them, searching deep into the night.
Yet there comes a time when you should just give up on that fight.

At their lowest, a murkrow flock landed, just within their view,
Listening to their planned thefts, watching as they flew.
It was then when they were noticed by an old murkrow of short stature,
She wasn’t often allowed out of the nest, just a simple egg hatcher.
That fateful day she had been given permission to roam,
And with the aid of an illusion, she brought the starving child home.
Only murkrow were allowed, that rule she knew too well.
Yet she risked her life anyway, not a soul the secret she’d tell.
The head of the flock was ruthless, not hesitating to show his might.
Yet for years, Mur slipped by undetected from his sight.
Regular rest was necessary but they proved valuable on heists.
Perfecting the art of stealing anything shiny and highly priced.
Life went on this way for years on end, all this becoming normal.
But despite finding a place there, relationships remained formal.

That was until one day, a lone smeargle they did find.
Just another target, to simply swoop by and rob blind.
He held not a penny to his name, his satchel lay bare,
Yet before Mur could even leave, he presented berries insisting they share.
Hesitant at first, they stared at the smeargle,
Eventually giving in and eating until near full.
But as they went to fly away, they realised something was amiss,
Within range their companions did not stay, their illusion was dismissed.
Yet the stranger did not seem to care, continuing to talk.
Mur was left stunned, their mouth agape in a gawk.
They had never been able to show anyone this form for the sake of their own safety.
Any reasonable person would report to the boss, though perhaps they were just being hasty.
This stranger did not know them, nor the workings of the flock.
Perhaps such an exchange shouldn’t come as such a shock.
Still they bid their farewells and pilfered the next town best they could.
Before making it back home like any good murkrow should.

For the next few weeks, the smeargle was all on the zorua’s mind.
And on their regular missions that stranger they’d try to find.
Eventually success was made, as he wandered by a lake.
One rough landing later, a sense of bonding they could not shake.
They arranged to meet up regularly, just as the sun hit noon.
From there they would hang out until fully rose the moon.
Venturing to a quiet clearing where Mur deemed it safe.
Within this smeargle they held immense trust and faith.
They’d use this time to rest and talk, unwinding just a little.
And the whole while he’d sit there, being an ear to it all.

As time went on their skills were recognised, quickly getting promoted.
Yet with that came more gruelling tasks to which they were devoted.
Their time to rest grew less and less, his worry taking hold.
Eventually he’d meet them closer, each time growing more bold.
With the overwhelming stress and strain, the fox grew ever snappy,
Refusing help and insisting this life made them happy.
Eventually their friend had, had just about enough.
Standing his ground, calling them out on their stupid bluff.
But he had failed to notice someone looming behind, listening to this information.
The head of the flock, large and imposing. He brought his talons down upon them without a moments hesitation.
A spy among his tightly guarded ranks, that was all that he saw.
A filthy liar and a traitor, not the obedient goon like before.
The flock watched on, unfazed. Not a helping claw in sight.
This was normal punishment as the boss showed off his might.
Even Mur knew that this was a fate that they could not change.
It had been a good run by here they were, it was expected and not strange.
They thought back to how they could have starved all those years ago.
How they’d had fun but in the end this was all for it they had to show.

To the surprise of everyone a voice screamed from the crowd.
The smeargle barrelling into the side of the bird, knocking him to the ground.
Not enough time to process as they were grabbed and lifted off the floor.
Their friend leaping up, grabbing his tail and into the sky they soared.
The smeargle flies?
What a surprise!
The flock in hot pursuit.
There was only one option available and a risky one to boot.
Making a hard turn, the pair disappeared, fully engulfed in the fog.
Honchkrow ordering them to fall back, sure of the death of the trickster fox and painter dog.

— Party Member 2 —

Name: Spekle
Nickname: Speks
Age: Early teens
Bio-sex: Male
Gender: Male (He/him)
Species: Smeargle
Personal items: A small bag, used to hold practically nothing aside from a few berries and a flute
Nature: Naive
Characteristic: Likes to relax

Personality (Traits): Kind, sweet and incredibly loyal, if a little slow on the uptake. He still has a lot of childlike tendencies and habits. If he has something and you need it he won’t hesitate to give it to you, even if it puts him in harms way. It’ll often take him quite a long while to understand things, especially subtlety and sarcasm. He’s honest to a fault and lacks the awareness to know when certain information shouldn’t be shared. He loves nature and taking things slow - often noticing and getting distracted by the tiniest of little details.

Additional information: He can’t keep a secret to save his life. He’s really trying to get better at it but really struggles to wrap his head around the basic concept of it.
Tends to only focus on the person he’s talking to when mid-conversation. The rest of the world seems to suddenly not exist.
He doesn’t like having too much clutter around or owning things he doesn’t need or use.
His mother taught him how to play the flute but he only ever uses it to mimic bird calls.
His birth name is actually Speckle but he’s managed to spell it incorrectly every single time he’s written it so he’s just accepted it at this point.

History

Travelling the world by his mother’s side, the perfect place to be.
So many people to meet and sights to see.
His mark on her back, her mark on his.
To figure out they were family, not the hardest question on the quiz.
It was just her and him for as long as he could remember.
That was until dawned that fateful November.
Frost forming in sparkly patches across the grass.
A large cavernous pit they did pass.
Cries from inside drove his mother into action.
“Stay right there, don’t worry, I’ll be back, son.”

And so he sat and waited and waited all day,
Yet she never appeared, longer added to his stay.
The snow fell heavy and yet longer he sat, no doubt of his own.
She just had to come back! He thought chilled to the bone.
Slowly but surely he ate though his rations.
Mimicking distant birdsongs, one of his many passions.

Yet as days and nights passed, it only grew colder.
He stood himself up, dusting snow off his shoulder.
Maybe the cave had another exit southbound?
It was worth a try, perhaps she’d just been turned around.

Yet the longer he searched the more hopeless it got.
There was no way she’d just up and forgot.
No something was wrong, he felt it deep in his chest.
Looking for others to help? Yes that would be best.
So he searched far and wide for a kind soul to help out.
Yet each time he was denied from slammed doors to shouts.

And by the time he thought he’d found someone willing,
His memory of the cave’s location had huge gaps missing filling.
So he continued on his own path, trying to ignore what he now did lack,
The only thing he had left, her paw pad mark on his back.

On his journeys, the paths were quiet, he found.
Calm and motionless, without a sound.
He quickly grew lonely, painting faces on trees around him.
Alone forever, that was ok, even if he felt his colour grow dim.

It wasn’t until he met that zorua... well, murkrow,
His first proper interaction in two years, yet he tried to not let it show.
As always he offered to share his food,
That seemed to put the stranger in a good mood.
Simple wild berries picked along the way, nice and healthy.
And well, the rest from there is history... until recently.